


Worth It

by Kyra_Neko_Rei



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, First Meetings, M/M, Power Dynamics, Pre-Earth Transformers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra_Neko_Rei/pseuds/Kyra_Neko_Rei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron's first encounter with Starscream, as he contemplates the appointment of a new Air Commander. Sometimes disaster comes with a warning label, and you embrace it anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

The Lord High Protector of Cybertron stared across the desk. In front of him, a Seeker radiated arrogance like a blast furnace, and smiled politely.

"And you believe you've sufficient skill to live up to my standards?" Megatron inquired of his latest candidate.

Starscream's smile widened and he said, with lofty, true-believer sincerity, "Lord Megatron, I am the best that there is."

_Arrogant little fragger_ , Megatron thought. _That's going to change._

\------------------

There were seven of them, each the highest-ranked in their respective graduating class, ranging from just out of the Academy to older than Sentinel Prime, and they stood before him in order of seniority. Starscream was the youngest, standing farthest to Megatron's right, all exquisite lines and fluid grace that made the next mech over look average. The next mech over being another Seeker, this was no small feat.

Megatron tore his optics away from the youngest and let them pass across the rest of them. Candidates for one of the highest military positions short of his own, they all met his gaze and held it, calmly, coolly, unbetraying of the tension they must all feel. The night of Maxitron's death, when the High Command had met to elect a new Lord High Protector, Megatron had been so emotionally charged he wasn't sure how he'd managed to function---and there had been no doubt for him, nor any among the other Commanders, that the position was his. For these, there was no such guarantee; they were mostly strangers to each other, had not known each other and worked together for vorns, did not know amongst themselves who the obvious leader was. And no one in the group stood out like Megatron did---except Starscream, but that was something else again. 

The brash, foolish arrogance of youth and fame and high scores, the inflated ego all Seekers were prone to, the self-centered confidence of one who expects the universe to arrange itself to his own satisfaction---such was Starscream. And at some point, irresistible-force-meets-object-that-thinks-it's-immovable, that delusion was going to be shattered---and either Starscream would be shattered with it, one way or another, or he would learn, and become a good commander---no. With the rest of his talents, he would truly be the best ---which was why Megatron had included him here.

\------------------

They fought.

Hand-to-hand combat, with each other, while Megatron watched and considered and calculated their strengths and weaknesses.

The fight in front of him ended, the well-experienced Sunburst giving his defeated rival Surestrike a hand up, and he announced the next fighters. "Fleetwing and Starscream."

Fleetwing had stood in the center of the line; he was some cenvorns older than Megatron; he was the biggest of the combatants and Megatron had put him up against Starscream to see how the Seeker fared when he was outsized. With any luck, the bigger jet would put Starscream on his aft and get rid of some of that arrogance.

"Go," he said, and the combatants closed with each other, and Megatron had about seven seconds in which to admire Starscream's movements before he got past Fleetwing's guard and knocked the elder fighter off-balance. A well-placed kick to the ankle joint and Fleetwing hit the ground, Starscream perched triumphantly atop him.

Well, damn.

\------------------

The tactical scores were in.

Starscream.

_Holy Primus, he's either brilliant or the luckiest fragger ever to exist._

The youngest candidate's score in the simulation had almost doubled the current Air Commander's; he'd easily surpassed all the others as well.

Megatron frowned at the computer.

He'd have them do another one. With some special, out-of-the-ordinary objectives. See how well he . . . _they_ did in that.

\------------------

They were back in the training room, and Starscream was circling to his right.

He'd _had to_ , really. Merely watching Starscream fight (and pit, could he fight; Megatron had put them all through two-on-one fights and Starscream had _still_ managed to win, by means of a truly creative underhanded alley-fighting trick that Megatron was planning to make Starscream teach him) had not quite satisfied him; five fights he'd watched Starscream win, and watching the grace, the determination, the sheer poetry of motion that was Starscream, he'd decided he _had_ to get in the ring with him. Megatron loved a good fight, and he'd been almost giddy with anticipation all morning over this one.

"Go," he said, and Starscream charged him from the side; Megatron moved quickly to engage, and Starscream abruptly slowed down---not much at all, but just enough that he didn't collide with Megatron until a second later than Megatron expected, so that when he did hit, Megatron was just the slightest bit off-balance from not running into Starscream when he'd expected to run into Starscream; the world tilted the wrong way and Megatron's left shoulder hit the ground hard, Starscream's weight and momentum driving them both downward.

Megatron twisted, arms reaching out to attack Starscream, and the flyer slipped in past them to drive Megatron into the floor a second time. Megatron closed his grasp and found himself with an armful of twisting, hissing, scratching, beautifully-writhing Seeker, and without conscious volition he tightened his hold, catching Starscream in a crushing embrace and rolling to try and pin him.

Starscream twisted in his grip and braced one foot against the floor, preventing the action, and then he twisted the other way and sank needle-sharp denta into Megatron's jaw, growling and snarling happily all the while.

Megatron was surprised to find himself laughing out loud.

\------------------

They fought to a draw, mostly because Infantry Commander Surefire's aide burst into the training room right before Megatron could finish the three-pronged attack he'd _finally_ gotten something resembling an opening for, and started yammering about a surprise attack on the Kaon Air Base, and they'd both had to go running for the war room to help deal with that. Every other Air Commander candidate had been there as well, and that had been borderline anarchy as they bickered over what to do and gave conflicting orders to the field commanders until Megatron shot the comm unit, sent Surefire's aide for a new one, and told the seven jets to each come up with a battle strategy by the time they had a comm system again, and the first one finished would be the one used.

Megatron was not surprised that it was Starscream. He also wasn't surprised that once implemented, it took care of the invading marauders rather neatly.

He _was_ surprised when Chaos, the second-oldest candidate, interrupted the subsequent incoming battle reports with a furious and profane tirade at Starscream, accusing him of luck, cheating, and general uselessness, and when Starscream responded with a couple suggestions for what Chaos could go do with himself that made Megatron's spark cringe in sympathy, lost it completely and demanded to know why Starscream wasn't shutting up and leaving the glory to older mechs who deserved it.

There was a moment's shocked silence and then Starscream said, "You cannot possibly be that stupid," in a sort of breathless whisper. Megatron stood up and moved face-to-face with Chaos. "Are you suggesting," he asked, deadly calm, "that age is more important than capability?"

Still angry, Chaos snapped, "No, my Lord, I'm saying that brash young idiots ought to content themselves with _following_ orders and not _making_ them like they've earned that right!"

"He did earn that right," said Megatron shortly. "I gave it to him." At the edge of his vision, Starscream puffed up slightly.

"He doesn't belong here."

The tension around the table reached new hights, all the High Command and the candidates for Air Commander watching as Chaos faced off with the now-furious Lord High Protector. " _He_ ," Megatron ground out, "has done better than you in every test I've set. And if you truly believe that your _seniority_ is enough to make up for that, then you are a fool, and I have no use for you on my command staff. _Get out_ , and be glad I don't strip you of rank." He glared around the table, suddenly weary of everything, and yearning for Starscream's defeated form to be trapped underneath him on the training room floor. "Dismissed, all of you." He offlined his optics, remembering.

"Thank you, Lord Megatron," Starscream said softly from next to him, the last to leave the room. His posture screamed triumph, and Megatron debated pouncing, finishing their fight right here and swiftly changing that triumph to sweet defeat. But no, the victory would be in question. They could finish later.

Starscream turned to go, and Megatron caught him by the wingtip, forcing him to turn. "Don't get me wrong, Starscream," he said softly. "You _are_ too arrogant. You can't possibly live up to your opinion of yourself forever."

Starscream cocked his head, smiled that too-confident smile, and said in matching tones, "It's not bragging if you back it up."

\------------------

The dull, heavy sound of Starscream's back and wings hitting the training room floor, Megatron thought, was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard.

It was followed up in short order by the sound of Megatron's own body collapsing against the Seeker's with a jarring clang of metal on metal, as he gave in to exhaustion and let himself fall on top of his defeated opponent, and for long moments they both simply cycled air frantically in an effort to recover. Their bout had been intense and furious, and it had taken Megatron nearly half a joor to achieve his victory. But victory was his, Starscream's exquisitely graceful, strong and deadly form trapped beneath his own, the Seeker staring up at him, bright-opticked and panting with exertion and the realization that he had been bested written oh-so-sweetly on his face; Megatron looked down at him radiating smugness and pleasure, and the Seeker met his gaze as if mesmerized.

"It's not bragging if you back it up," the Lord Protector said speculatively, quoting Starscream's words back at him. "So what says my arrogant would-be Air Commander now?"

Annoyance flashed across the Seeker's face; Megatron settled down more comfortably atop him, reminding him of his current position, and the Seeker vented air in a sigh and seemed to force himself to calm down. "I concede, sir," he said, almost graciously. "You win this fight."

_This_ fight. Ahh, Primus, what was he getting himself into? The worst---and best---thing about it was that Starscream was right; it was astounding how easily it could have gone the other way. How long had it been since he'd been in a fight like that?

The image of their positions inverted, so real he could _see_ the triumph on Starscream's face, rose unbidden through his processor and for an instant he was almost sorry he'd won. His spark flared at the idea, and he disguised a shiver by tightening his hold on the Seeker.

"Mmmm. So nice of you to concede," he said, not quite sarcastically.

"Well," the Seeker shrugged, gesturing with optics and jaw towards their current positions. "Kinda obvious."

"Yes," Megatron purred, smiling as an idea occurred to him. "I think I want to claim a forfeit from you, having won such a . . . challenging fight." He wasn't sure whether Starscream's optics lit up from the praise or from . . . something else, but the Seeker slowly nodded, a little bit wary, but somehow fascinated as well.

"Very well," the Seeker's mouthparts curved up in a smile, teasing, as though this was all happening for his own personal amusement. "What forfeit does my Lord wish to claim?" He somehow managed to make the address sound possessive, and Megatron considered taking as his prize a taste of those perfect lips.

But no. There would be time for that later . . . and many other fights he'd be winning. Right now . . . "Bow to me. Kneel and drop your forehead to the floor and stay there until I tell you to rise." He pushed himself up off of Starscream with a slight twinge of regret as the air of the room replaced the feel of solid metal against his front, and offered his hand to assist the Seeker to his feet.

Starscream stood for a moment before him, expression unreadable but optics smoldering, and then slowly, gracefully, perfectly, dipped into the most flawless, enticing, _exquisite_ obeisance that Megatron had ever seen. His wings folded backwards as he dropped to his knees and as he bent forward to touch his forehead to the floor between his hands, they slowly fanned forward.

Megatron stared, drinking up the sight for long moments until he wondered why the Seeker didn't move. Instantly he remembered that he'd told him to remain there until given permission to rise, and he smiled. Enjoyed the situation for a few more seconds. Finally spoke, not bothering to hide the pleasure in his voice. "All right, Starscream, you may rise."

He was all grace on the way up, too.

"We need to do that again sometime," Starscream said. "That's the best fight I've had in ages." His optics were lit up with something, most likely the possibility that next time he'd win.

"Yes," Megatron purred, not sure whether it was the prospect of winning or losing that entranced him so. "We must."

\------------------

"Tell me, Starscream." They were in his office, the Seeker facing him across the desk, and he was most certainly not contemplating the desk's properties as a convenient horizontal surface for interfacing upon. "What will you do if you disagree with me on something?"

"I will tell you so."

"And?"

"I'll explain why."

"And if I still don't agree? Will you argue with me?"

"Yes, if I believe it to be sufficiently important."

"Like Chaos did?" He knew he was being unfair, asking _that_ , but Starscream on his command staff was going to be a handful, and he wanted to see how the mech would differentiate himself---a mech with ideas and tactical expertise in a field Megatron was not particularly expert on---from an idiot who wouldn't see reason.

"No," said Starscream. "If _I_ ever have reason to argue with you, I'll be _right_."

\------------------

He suspected he was letting himself in for a lifetime of headaches.

He suspected it would be worth it.

\------------------

Crowds cheered; Megatron was reminded of the last time he'd been on this stage---when he'd been crowned Lord High Protector not two orns past. The weld lines tingled where the crown had been attached to his forehead, and circuits surged within him, reminiscent of the fierce mingling joy of achievement and weight of duty he'd felt on that day.

At least this time he didn't have to kneel.

Starscream did, and Megatron supressed a shiver. He wasn't used to mechs kneeling to him---the gesture was usually given only to Prime and Protector, in situations of ceremony or discipline, and to others solely as an expression of deepest gratitude, and it had never been directed to Megatron before he attained his current rank.

He liked it, though, and when Starscream did it, it was somehow better than when done by anyone else. He was beautiful, the effortless grace that took him flawlessly through the sky somehow accentuated when he was on the ground; as he bent forward his wings bent upwards and back, slightly, and as he stopped in the proper posture of a deep obeisance the wings came forward again, slowly, and the movement was the most beautiful thing Megatron had ever seen.

Megatron drank it in, counting down the astroseconds until Starscream looked up, and the Lord High Protector offered his Air Commander a hand; Starscream took it and got to his feet.

The crowd erupted anew; Starscream stepped proudly forward, taking up his position at Megatron's side as though he belonged there.

He did.


End file.
